Don't Get Fit, Get Fitch!
by Trufreak89
Summary: When Naomi Campbell decides to join a gym she finds herself signing up with Fitch Fitness; and catching the attention of a certain redheaded personal trainer.
1. Chapter 1

Don't Get Fit; Get Fitch!

_**Summary: **__When Naomi Campbell decides to join a gym she finds herself signing up with Fitch Fitness; and catching the attention of a certain redheaded personal trainer.  
_

* * *

Oh sweet Jesus, I can't do this! I'm way over my head. I don't belong here! People like me do not belong in places like this! Maybe I could still turn around and make a run for it before it's too late-

"Hi there, welcome to Fitch Fitness!" A perky bottle blonde greets me from behind a gleaming white reception desk. She's managed to squeeze herself in to a tiny crop top that barely contains her overpriced boob job. Despite it barely being 9am she's wearing a grin from ear to ear and more makeup than I would wear on a night out. She flashes pearly white teeth at me that are as fake as everything else about her. She's like some sort of robot and for my caffeine deprived mind it's scary as hell. I need to get out of here. _Fast._

"Are you interested in signing up? I can have one of our reps give you the guided tour-"  
"No… No, I think I got lost." As I stumble over my words she suddenly loses her smile. I'm no longer a potential source of income for her; I'm just a waste of her time. She actually sneers as she looks me up and down, taking in my baggy Nike jogging pants, shabby trainers and the oversized Goldsmiths hoodie I'm currently drowning in. I don't belong in a place like Fitch Fitness and she knows it.  
"Yeah. I think you did." She replies curtly and I have to really work hard to resist the urge to slap that smug smirk off of her face. I fucking hate gyms and all the plastic people that go to them; especially the ones who _work _in them.

I barely got any sleep last night and I feel like hell, the last thing I need is some life-sized Barbie bimbo staring down her nose at me just because I didn't turn up to the gym in the latest designer gear. Well _excuse me,_ but I'm pretty sure a designer label on my trainers won't help me run any damn faster on a treadmill. "Yeah, I was actually looking for MacDonald's." I shoot back at her with a glare of my own. The bitch probably hasn't eaten anything other than _Slimfast_ shakes in years. I turn around, intending to make a hasty retreat before I'm thrown out on my arse, but I end up walking straight in to someone. I'm stopped from falling by a firm grip on my forearm and a pair of gorgeous brown eyes keeps me rooted to the spot. They're like melted pools of chocolate and along with a button nose and a genuine smile they make up the gorgeous face of the girl I've just managed to barge in to. Nice one Campbell, real smooth.

I stare down at her slender fingers still wrapped around my wrist and as she realises she's still holding on to me she hastily withdraws her hand. "Where's the fire?" She grins at me with that smile and I feel like I'm about to melt in to a puddle on the floor. This girl is drop dead gorgeous and I've suddenly lost the ability to speak. So I'm just staring at her like an idiot. "Good work out?" She asks, and her smile is a little more hesitant. She's obviously trying to make small talk to break up the tense silence as I carry on staring like a comatose goldfish. Shit like this is why I'm single. As soon as a pretty girl looks my way I lose the ability to string a sentence together.

"Uh, I don't actually go here." By some small miracle I manage to find my voice again, though it comes out as something of a dry croak. I really can't help it, beautiful girls intimidate me; and the tiny redhead in front of me couldn't be any more intimidating. "I was just…uh…thinking about joining, but I don't think this is my kind of place."

"Don't let the ice bitch on the desk fool you; it's actually a pretty friendly place. Why don't you sign in as my guest and I can give you the guided tour? Trust me; this is the best gym in the city!" She gives me the sales pitch, but she honestly doesn't need it. One flash of those big brown eyes and I'm following her back over to the reception desk to sign in. Honestly, she could tell me to follow her off a bridge and I probably would. God, I've been single far too long.  
"Are you on commission or something?" I tease as she scans her little plastic fob watch through the device on the counter and Ice Bitch's computer pings to acknowledge she's signed in.  
"Something like that." She laughs and I have a feeling I'm missing the joke.

Speaking of jokes I need to fill in the guest register that Barbie has just shoved under my nose, and I'm halfway through writing my name when I'm faced with the age old problem of my name. It's Naomi Campbell. Yes, hilarious, I know! I couldn't be any further from the American Supermodel. I'm a pasty, blonde twenty-one year old from Bristol; though I'm not exactly unattractive. Conscious of the _very_ attractive girl standing beside me, and the irritating receptionist looming over me, I sign my name as Naomi Jones, not exactly original I know, but it is ridiculously early for me and I've been brain dead since I gave up coffee last week. This health kick really is going to kill me.

After signing the register I follow my new tour guide through the little metal turnstile that leads from the reception area and through to the changing rooms. "I'm Emily by the way." She holds her hand out for me and I shake it somewhat awkwardly as I try to shove my bag in to one of the lockers with my other hand.  
"Naomi."

"Nice to meet you, Naomi." She offers me another wide smile as she pulls her long vibrant red hair up in to a ponytail. She pulls off her jacket and my eyes almost pop out of my head. She's wearing a short black vest that shows off her flat toned stomach. She's got some serious abs, though she's not bulky. She's somehow found the right amount of muscle and toning for her small frame. I manage to tear my gaze away from her before she realises I'm blatantly perving over her. I pull my own hoodie off, though I'm not wearing anything quite as revealing, just a T-shirt.

"So, what brings you to the gym then? Bikini body for summer, general fitness, or health?" Emily leads me in to the main gym and it's a clone of every other gym in the country. The cardio section is full of treadmills, cross trainers and rowing machines, while there's a separate area for machine and free weights and studios leading off from the main hall for classes. There's also a pool and a sauna room on the other side of the building. That's one of the reasons I chose to check this place out when I was looking for gyms online. I love swimming. I should have just bought myself an annual pass to the city swimming pool; I'd save myself a fortune. This place is as expensive as the overpriced bottles of water in their vending machines. I've just started my job writing for a local paper, it's nothing fancy but it pays the bills; I have a feeling signing up for this place is going to leave my bank balance in serious jeopardy.

"Uh, just fitness I guess." I find myself staring in awe at the people on the other treadmills as Emily leads us over two spare machines in a row on the back wall. Everyone else seems to be attempting to run the four minute mile and I feel self-conscious about the slow pace Emily's set my machine to. "Don't these things go faster?"  
"They do." Emily chuckles as she reaches out to stop me from adjusting the speed. "But you need to warm up first, or you'll hurt yourself." It's my turn to laugh at a private joke over her warning. Hurt myself? I could do that getting out of bed in the morning, never mind in a gym. That's why I'm here.

I have this muscle condition, which it pretty much a pain in the…well, everything. It's called _Fibromyalgia,_ which is a long fancy word for _everything hurts. _FMS for short. It's a chronic pain syndrome which covers everything from aching muscles to stiff joints, agonising migraines and constant fatigue. It's partially why I'm such a cranky bitch, and it's also why I've given up caffeine and decided to join a gym. Exercise is supposed to help with the pain, though in my experience it just causes more. I've been getting a lot more pain lately, from what we call 'flare ups', periods of time when the pain is more frequent and intense. I've been struggling with this for years and I've finally talked myself in to trying to get fit to see if it really will help; nothing the quacks have given me over the years seems to make a damn bit of difference anyway, so I might as well give the whole exercise and healthy living thing a try.

I hate admitting how much the FMS affects me, how weak it makes me. It's not a noticeable disability, it's not like I'm in a wheelchair or walking around with a stick and a guide dog; but it's there with me every day and it's something I've had to learn to live with. I don't like people knowing about it, so when Emily asks about my motivation I lie and tell her I'm just interested in getting fit. She talks me through the facilities at the gym and suggests the type of exercise I could do to raise my level of fitness. As we talk the treadmill slowly increases its speed and I start to feel uncomfortable as we break in to a light jog. A shooting pain starts in my left knee from the impact. I try to grit my teeth and ignore the pain, but it spreads to my other knee and down to my shins and I'm struggling to keep up as the speed goes up another notch. Emily notices my discomfort and leans over to adjust the settings of my machine. She sets it for a warm down and after another five minutes, which seem to stretch out to an eternity, the machine comes to a stop. I try to play down the pain in my knee as I step off the treadmill. Emily's not fooled though and she notices I'm favouring my right leg.

"Are you ok?" She quizzes, concern etched on to her face. She's known me for barely half an hour yet she fusses over me like we're old friends.  
"I'm fine." I insist, though I can feel my knee stiffening up and I know it's going to be worse tomorrow. Everything started in my left knee, years ago when I was a teenager, long before I should have ever been suffering from what my doctor referred to as 'wear and tear'. The pain spread everywhere within a matter of months and as soon as the doctors labelled me with fibromyalgia it was like they just stopped trying, _here's some pills, take two a day and go away.  
_"You're not fine, you might have pulled something. Let me take a look." Emily slips an arm around my waist and I almost forget how to breathe as she takes on my weight and helps me in to one of the side rooms off the gym.

It looks like a physiotherapy room, with a physio table in the centre of the room, a desk and some chairs tucked in to the corner with a bookcase. "God, I fucking hate physiotherapists." I grumble under my breath, too many memories of probing and useless physiotherapists during my teenager years; who in the end did fuck all to help me. I say it a little louder than I intended and Emily hears me.  
"What's so bad about physios?" She looks up at me with an almost playful smile as she presses down on my knee, checking the joint and the surrounding area for signs of swelling. I have a feeling I've just put my foot in it with the tiny redhead somehow. I shrug at her as she puts a hand firmly at the back of my knee and uses her free hand to straighten my leg. It sends the pain shooting up and down my leg.

"Because they do shit like that!" I hiss, not meaning to take it out on her, but it's hard to change the habit of a lifetime. I get sore and I lash out.  
"Sorry." Emily apologises, even though I'm the one that should be making the apologies.  
"No, I'm sorry!" I sigh as she lets go of my leg and perches against the desk with her arms folded defensively across her chest. I really don't want to blow this, so I find myself doing something I rarely do; admitting my weakness. "My knee's fine, I just have this muscle thing."

"You should have said! High impact stuff like running can aggravate tender muscles. What is it anyway?" She quizzes, seemingly interested in my response. I'm not sure whether she's interested in me or just makes a habit out of taking on strays at the gym.  
"You wouldn't have heard of it." I laugh, and I'm glad to see her get her smile back as the atmosphere lightens a little.  
"Try me." She shoots back like it's a challenge. Never one to back down, I fold my own arms over my chest and stare her down.  
"Ok, it's Fibromyalgia."

"Then I was right, high impact exercises could damage your soft tissue. You should start off with something low impact like aqua aerobics or yoga." Ok, wasn't expecting that. Most people can barely say the word, never mind know what it is. That sinking feeling in my stomach just gets worse as she leans back and picks up the little metal nameplate off the desk. "But what would I know?"

I groan in embarrassment as I read the name; _Emily Fitch. _"You're a physio? And a Fitch?" _Great_! At least I didn't insult her family as well as her livelihood.  
"Guilty." She replies with a laugh and god help me this girl could be a mass murderer and I'd still fancy the fuck out of her. "I overheard our receptionist giving you a hard time. She's a bitch, but this really is the best gym in Bristol. I thought a personal tour would maybe convince you to join up?"  
"I don't know, your staff are pretty rude and your treadmills are vicious." I grin and she laughs again.  
"Well, I think if you give us a chance you might find we're pretty good for you, Naomi Jones." Oh fuck. I signed that stupid guest register as Jones.  
"Actually, it's Campbell." It takes her about half a second to register my name and she barely supresses a giggle.

"Well superstar, how about I talk you through the packages we have available?" I've got to admit, the girl might be pintsized but she's feisty as hell and she's got the sales pitch down. I'm not easily led though and I'm not about to jump in to signing a yearlong gym contract just because one of their employees is the fittest girl who's ever given me the time of I'll just go for the three month option.  
"I'm still not convinced Miss Fitch."  
"Well, _Miss Campbell,_ how about we finish that tour of the gym and then you can make up your mind? I might even be able to throw in a free health assessment and a discount for our impolite staff?"

"Why are you so bothered if I join or not?" I can't help the question slipping past my lips. This place is packed, it doesn't seem like it's all that desperate for new members, yet Emily's pushing the hard sell to get me to join. I'm not used to strangers taking such an interest in me. Emily's cheeks seem to colour a little as she hops down from her desk.

"To be honest, at first I was just trying to make up for Hanna being a bitch to you, but when I found out you had FMS I was impressed. Not a lot of people with your condition would even consider joining a gym, but regular exercise and a healthy diet can make a world of difference in managing it. I do some personal training and I'd like to help you, Naomi. That is what I got in to this job for." She's so sincere, with her big brown puppy dog eyes and her confident smile. Had anyone else tried to feed me a line like that I probably would have laughed in their faces, but this girl_ genuinely_ gives a damn about helping me. She's more interested in helping me than I am.

I think she might be right about her being good for me. I can guarantee that if I'm left to my own devices I'll lose interest in working out in less than a week; but if I've got someone helping me, say for example the cutest personal trainer in Bristol, then I might just be able to stick at this getting fit malarkey a little longer; or at least long enough to figure out if she's interested in more than just my level of fitness.

**A/N: Today is International Fibromyalgia Awareness Day (May 12****th****) so I'm raising awareness the best way I know how, through writing :) Dedicated to Doodles, Lordy and everyone else fighting Fibromyalgia. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone for reading the first chapter and for the great feedback! I've been planning this fic for a while and was trying to finish a few things off so I could get it up in time for FMS awareness day. I was diagnosed with the condition 12 years ago and both my dad and my ex-girlfriend have it too, though we all have different experiences of it, so hopefully I can use what I know to do this story justice. Thanks for Reading :)**

"Ok, so you don't want to sign up and be tied in to a contract for like a year, so how about we get you on our monthly plan? It's a little bit more expensive, but we can wave the joining fee and get you a discount for our rude staff." Emily Fitch grins at me as she walks back in to her office carrying a bunch of papers and leaflets that she drops on to her desk. I'm sitting in one of the comfy chairs on the other side of her desk and shoot her a smile as she takes her seat.

"Sounds good. So what will the damage be?" Ever the pessimist I ask about the price straight away. I still think it's going to be too expensive for me. I might be a journalist now and earning a wage, but the paper I work for is only small and I'm just starting out. My salary doesn't exactly stretch to luxury gyms. Emily is pretty skilled at this sales thing though and she sidesteps the question altogether.

"The monthly plan gives you unlimited access to the gym and use of all the facilities, including the pool. We can do an induction and a fitness assessment and I'll build you a training program from there."  
"Great…how much?" She laughs at my persistence and I'm still waiting for her to answer me. I think a personal fitness plan is going to cost me a small fortune; but I suppose it will be worth it if it helps with the fibro. The last thing I want to do is hurt myself by overdoing it at the gym. Professional help is definitely my best option.

"Like I said, I want to help. I won't charge you for my time, so it'll just be the gym membership. So that's thirty five pounds a month." Wow. That's not that totally unreasonable and if it's month by month I can quit when I want without worrying about paying for the rest of the year. The fact that Emily is being thrown in to the bargain just sweetens the deal.  
"Ok Fitch, sign me up." What the hell, at the very least I can spend the next month perving over my new personal trainer.  
"You won't regret it, Campbell." She perches on the edge of her desk as she puts a contract in front of me to go over it and leans in close as she points out the particulars. I struggle to listen to her though, between the throbbing in my knee and having her sitting so close I just can't concentrate.

"Are you ok?" She asks with her brow knitted in concern as she looks down at me.  
"Fine." I rub at my knee self-consciously. If I told somebody about it every time something was hurting I'd never shut up. Emily sees right through me though and puts the papers I'm supposed to be reading over aside.  
"Hop up on the bed."  
"Excuse me?" I choke, certain I've heard her wrong, but she nods towards the physiotherapy bed in the corner of the room. "Ok, but you should know I usually insist on dinner first." I crack a joke, trying to cover my initial reaction.  
"I've got a protein bar in my drawer?" She shoots back without missing a beat, and I'm pretty sure this girl has never had to tell someone to get on to a bed twice in her life.

Since I don't make any attempt to move she drops down in front of me and slips off my left trainer before resting my foot on her knees and pushing up the leg of my jogging pants. It's stupid, but my first thought as she does this is that I'm so glad I shaved my legs this morning. Her hands find my sore knee and her skilful fingers start massaging my aching muscles. "Fuck…" I mutter under my breath as she kneads the tension away. God that feels good.  
"Better?" She looks up at me with those big brown eyes and this smug little smile. I can't quite seem to form the words to answer her, so I just nod and bite at my lip instead. "I guess not all physiotherapists are that bad, huh?" She teases lightly as she carries on with her work.  
"You're better than the last one." I agree. My last encounter with a physio was a middle aged woman with ice cold hands and a frosty demeanour to match. I started seeing her when the pain in my knees got worse and my doctor recommended me for physical therapy. She gave me exercises to do at home and I saw her maybe once a month, but when the pain started spreading everywhere else she pretty much told me there was nothing she could do for me; so my opinion of physical therapists isn't exactly high. Emily is doing a pretty good job of changing that though.

Once she's finished massaging my knee we get the paperwork out of the way and I find myself signed up for my first month at Fitch Fitness. "So how long have you been diagnosed with FMS?" Emily sits at her desk, typing away on her laptop as she asks me questions about my medical history.  
"About eight years." I was fourteen when I was diagnosed with something that back then was mostly associated with women over the age of forty and was pretty much classed as wear and tear of the body. It felt like a cop out. Like my doctor had no clue what was wrong so he just picked the fibromyalgia label. I guess I still feel like that sometimes. Any time I go to see a doctor they just put everything down to the fibro. Migraine? That'll be the fibromyalgia. Insomnia? That's fibromyalgia too. Fatigue? Yup, you guessed it. As soon as you're labelled with FMS it's like doctors don't even bother anymore. You could turn up to see them with your leg hanging off and they'd say it was a symptom of the fibro.

"What made you want to be a physiotherapist then?" I ask, trying to find out a little more about her. The question I really want to ask is whether she's single; and also gay. That would really help. She looks like she could be, but it's not like there's some kind of badge we can all wear to tell.  
"My sister and I got our personal training accreditation when we were still in college, having a dad who owned a gym it just kind of seemed the obvious career choice. I didn't want to get stuck working here when I was eighteen, so I decided to go to uni and get a degree. You know, charge my clients more for hiring me." She makes a joke about it, but I'm guessing that a personal trainer who is a licensed physiotherapist can charge the earth; which makes me wonder why she's offering to help me for free.

"To be honest, I don't really get a chance to help people here. I mostly just do personal training and when I do get to use my degree it's just minor soft tissue injuries and short term stuff. Just for once I'd like a challenge."  
"Well Emily Fitch, consider me your challenge."

Once Emily's finished taking my details she gets me one of those watch fob things for signing in to the gym and we make an appointment to meet for my induction tomorrow morning. When I pass the reception on the way out the blonde bitch gives me a sickly sweet smile. I'm a paying customer now so she has to be nice to me and she knows it.

I leave the gym and head straight home to the flat I share with my best friend, Effy. I tried texting her to see if she wanted anything brought in for dinner, but she didn't get back to me. I figure out why when I walk through the door and find her walking around the flat in nothing more than her underwear and a baggy t-shirt. Her sort-of-boyfriend walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. I say _sort of_ because the guy is married or something, so I'm not sure he can actually be her boyfriend when he already has a wife. "Hey Freds, wife working late again tonight?"  
"Fuck off Naomi." He snaps, being his usual perky self. You'd think a guy who's shagging two women would crack a smile once in a while. Effy rolls her eyes at me but doesn't get in the middle of us. She knows how I feel about Freddie. He's a cheating prick and I think Effy can do better; the problem is she usually does worse. Freddie McClair is actually a step up from the usual pricks that Effy attracts.

"He's not married, he's engaged." Effy points out once Freddie has dressed and gone home. She's so nonchalant about being the second woman. I don't know how she can stand it.  
"My mistake." It's my turn to roll my eyes at her and she just gives me that smirk of hers back; the one that says fuck the world. "Guess what I did today?" I change the subject, not wanting to argue over her and Freddie's arrangement once again. She knows how I feel about that already.  
"Solved world hunger? Created global peace?" She teases and our banter is back to normal. Eff and I have been best friends since college and we've been living together since I got back from university at the start of last summer.

"No that's on tomorrow's agenda. I finally joined a gym."  
"A gym? So you're serious about this getting fit stuff?" She looks dubious and she has every right to be. I'm hardly the poster child for a fit and healthy lifestyle. Up until a few weeks ago I was smoking forty cigarettes a day and washing down takeaways with glasses of wine. So I'm still doing that, but I at least quit the fags. I've been talking about getting fit for ages and I'm not surprised she doesn't think I'll stick to it.  
"I am!" I hold my head up high. "I've even got myself a personal trainer."  
"Really? When did you get a fucking pay rise?"  
"She's actually given me a pretty good deal."  
"She huh?" Effy catches the grin I'm wearing and she calls me out on it. "What's _she _like?"  
"She's fucking gorgeous! But I don't know if she's gay, or even single, or interested…"  
"Good luck with that Campbell." She laughs at me, knowing my luck with girls. I've been single for ages. I'm not much of a people person and I can get quite stroppy when I'm sore and tired; which is most of the time really. So trying to keep a girlfriend can be a bit of a nightmare when you're twenty-two and you've got the energy of a sixty-two years old.

I struggle to keep up with most girls my age, god knows how I'd cope if I really could get with Emily. The girl is ridiculously fit. She probably goes mountain climbing or skydiving or something on her days off. Keeping up with her would probably kill me; though at least I'd die with a smile on my face. God, I really need to find out if she's gay. I'm meeting her at ten tomorrow for my induction, so maybe I can do a little digging; I am supposed to be an investigative journalist after all.

* * *

The next morning can't come quick enough and I raid my wardrobe for some decent leggings and a vest top. I plan on looking a little more presentable today and once I'm changed in to my gym gear I put my hair in a braid. I've grown it out recently and gone for a platinum shade of blonde. I think I suit it, and I'm pretty happy with my reflection in the full length mirror hanging in the hall. Making sure I've got my little watch fob on for getting in to the gym I head out the door to go meet Emily.

The same receptionist as yesterday is sitting behind the desk and she gives me that smile that is really a sneer as I scan my fob through the turnstile to get past her. That's as far as I get before I realise I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go. Should I just head for the main equipment room and wait for Emily there? Or should I go knock on her office door? I'm about fifteen minutes early. What if she's with another client? Or she hasn't come in yet? I'm busy having my little internal crisis for all of thirty seconds before Emily comes through the turnstile behind me carrying a Starbucks cup and smiling. She's wearing what looks to be her uniform, navy tracksuit pants and a matching polo shirt with Fitch Fitness stitched over her left breast. Note to self, do not get caught looking at her chest. "Hey Naomi, you're a bit early. Why don't you grab a coffee while I drop my stuff in my office?"

"Actually I gave up caffeine last week."  
"Impressive." She smiles and it's ridiculous but I get these little butterflies fluttering in my stomach as she touches my arm. "I don't think I could make it through the morning without my chai latte."  
"Chai latte? That's not very healthy." I tease, enjoying the way her cheeks colour a little as she bites her lip.  
"Sometimes a little of what's bad for you is good for you."  
"I couldn't agree more."

I head to the vending machine and get myself a nice healthy bottle of water, hoping to score some brownie points with Emily. "Good choice, good choice!" A scouser wearing a similar uniform to Emily's, only with a white polo shirt with 'Rob' stitched across his right breast pats me on the back as he spots my water. "That right there is a quarter of your daily water needs!" It's like 10am and the man is grinning at me like he's still wired after a night out. My god some of these gym people really are nuts.  
"Hey, Dad." Emily joins us by the vending machine and greets the dark haired scouser with a hug. "I see you've met our newest recruit. Naomi, this is my dad, Rob Fitch."  
"Nice to meet you luv!" He shakes my hand rather vigorously and I still think he's on something. "You've made the right choice in Fitch Fitness! And you're in safe hands with my Emily here." He beams like the proud father he is and I'm really glad he has no idea just how much I've been thinking about his daughter.  
"Ready Naomi?" Emily's hand finds my arm again and I force out a nod and try not to blush as I think about other places her hands could be. I wonder if I could get another massage today?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been a while guys, I've had a few fics to try and finish off and I've been hitting the gym myself again lately so between that and work I haven't had much time or energy to write. I've got the next couple of chapters plotted out so they shouldn't take as long to get done. As ever thanks for reading and for the amazing feedback.  
**

"Ok, so I'm pretty sure you're just teasing me now." I roll my eyes at Emily as I walk barefoot up and down her office for a third time. She's kneeling down in front of her desk and scrutinising the way I'm walking. She's already tested my reflexes and my balance; neither of which are great. Now she's supposedly checking how I walk. Though I'm pretty sure she's just making fun of me.  
"I'm not, I promise." She laughs at me and finally gets me to take a seat again. It's a welcome relief. My knee is already starting to ache. It's been playing up a lot lately and yesterday's session on the treadmill hasn't helped much.

"You're knee doesn't seem very stable when you're moving. Is the pain mostly here in the front?" She gently presses her fingers against my knee, but even that slight pressure is enough to make me hiss. "The alignment of your patella looks a little off. If it's rubbing against your femur it can cause patellofemoral pain." I stare blankly at her. She might as well be speaking double Dutch for all I understand what she's saying. I got a 2:1 in Journalism at London's prestigious Goldsmiths University; yet I feel like an idiot as Emily has to dumb things down for me to understand them.

"The patella is your kneecap." She explains patiently; though she's not in any way condescending. "It can get misaligned if one of your quadriceps is stronger than the other side. So we should work on strengthening them all equally. These are your quads." She lists the name of the three quad muscles as her fingers run over them each in turn, and I struggle to repress a shudder as her fingers travel from my thigh all the way down to my kneecap.  
"Show off." I mutter with a smirk. I've never felt so at ease with a healthcare professional before.

"I can name pretty much every muscle in the body." She teases with a grin of her own as she gets back to her feet and tugs me up on to mine. "Even your Sternocleidomastoideus!"  
"Do I even have one of those?" I frown, having no clue what she's talking about.

She laughs again as she points to her neck. "They're a pair of muscles just here." After her little anatomy lesson she moves behind me and I'm on edge again as her hands find my hips. My mouth feels dry and it's hard to concentrate on what she's saying. God, it's been far too long since I last had sex. She's only touching me on top of my clothes and I'm already close to losing it. "I just need to check your mobility and your flexibility." She talks me through everything as she rotates my hips, raises and bends my arms, and generally checks the movement of all my joints. She jots down a little grade on the strength of each muscle as she applies a little resistance to them.

When she tells me to pull my thumb back against my wrist, supposedly to check my flexibility, it's a struggle. I feel the strain on the front of my wrist and shooting up my forearm as I try to force it back. "Ok, so you're not very flexible. We'll work on that." Emily laughs softly as she stops me from breaking my wrist. I've got a suggestion or two about how we could do that, but I'm guessing her idea is something boring; like yoga or something.

"OK, that's the initial assessment done. Mobility wise you're joints are in pretty good shape. I think what we need to focus on is cardio and strength training. Working on your cardio is good for your overall health, and with strength training you can keep your muscles limber. An aerobics class or yoga might be good for you too. I'll get you a timetable for the classes we have here." Emily promises to draw me up a training plan and e-mail it to me. We agree to two personal training sessions a week to get me started out, and since we've already seen each other twice this week she sets our next session for Monday morning. I've got to admit I'm a little disappointed that I'm not going to get to see her again for a few days, but the painful twinge in my knee has slowly grown in to a throbbing ache. I'm ready to call it a day and head home.

"Oh, wait! Before I forget!" Emily grins at me as I'm slipping my trainers back on and she disappears out of her office for a couple of minutes. She comes back with a T-shirt the same colour as her uniform. She proudly presents it to me with a wide smile and I can't help but grin myself. It has the 'Fitch Fitness' logo printed on the front in white and my surname on the back in big bold white letters. "We give them to everyone. Dad loves the free advertising." She laughs as I promise to wear it for our next session.

Despite the pain in my knee I'm feeling pretty good by the time I get home. I'm usually a little run down by the mid-afternoon and if I'm not working I'll take a nap to try and refresh my batteries. Today I'm wide awake though and I end up changing out of my work out gear, and in to some comfortable pyjama bottoms and the T-shirt Emily gave me. I spend the rest of the afternoon sitting in the living room with my laptop and working on some of the freelance writing I do to earn a little extra cash on the side. I'm still typing away when Effy finally gets back to the flat around dinner time. She's the manager of a local nightclub and mostly works nights, so I'm guessing she's been out with Freddie. The club where she works is where they met last year.

He was in the VIP area, having a night out with his mates, when he caught Effy's eye. She brought him back home and fucked him the first night she met him; which isn't all that surprising with Effy. When she brought him home a second time, now that was a shock. Effy doesn't tend to repeat performances, or relationships at all for that matter; for some reason Freddie's different. I rip him all the time for being engaged, but in all honesty he's been pretty good for Effy. Of course, I'd never admit that to the cheating sod.

"Hey. Good day off?" Effy asks, offering no explanation for where she's been all day. It's not like she needs to tell me anything anyway. I'm her flatmate, not her mother.  
"It was pretty good. I went back to the gym today." I move my laptop to show off my new T-shirt. Effy glares at it, like I've just revealed I'm wearing a swastika or something; though she quickly lets her mask of indifference settle back on to her face.  
"Fitch Fitness? What made you go there?" She picks up a magazine from the coffee table and flips through it as she asks me about the gym. She's trying to sound offhand about it, like she's only asking to be polite and to make conversation. Effy doesn't waste her words though and I'm instantly suspicious as I consider the question.

Why _did _I choose Fitch Fitness? There are plenty of gyms in Bristol; and a lot of them are probably cheaper and closer to where I live. I'm pretty sure I've heard adverts for them on the radio on my way to and from work and they maybe even advertise in the paper I work for. I shrug, unable to really answer her. I'm not sure what set me on the path to meeting Emily Fitch, but I'm pretty damn grateful to whatever it was. "I guess I just saw an advert or something?"  
"Yeah. You must have." Effy replies cryptically as she gets up to change for work. "Just don't overdo it, yeah? I can't afford to pay your half of the rent if you hurt yourself."  
"Love you too, Eff!" I call after her with a snort as she heads to her room. Her only reply is a two fingered salute back at me; like I said, Effy doesn't waste her words.

She pops her head back in to the living room to say goodbye to me before she leaves for work. After that, I'm alone in the flat. I put my laptop aside and decide to do some housework. I really do feel like I've got more energy today and I need to walk off the cramp in my legs from sitting for so long. I start by tidying up in the kitchen and putting in a load of washing. Whilst that's spinning around in the washer I hoover the living room and change the sheets on my bed. I decide to be nice and change Effy's too. We've known each other since college and we've lived together for almost a year. She doesn't mind me going in her room any more than I mind her in mine.

I notice a man's T-shirt lying on the bed and, if I was in any doubt about it being Freddie's, the name 'McClair' printed on the back confirms who it belongs to. Something about the white block lettering and the navy blue cotton seems familiar to me. Sure enough, when I turn it over I'm met by the sight of the all too familiar Fitch Fitness logo. Great! I've just joined the same gym as Freddie McClair! I must have subconsciously picked up on the gym's logo when he's been over here. Emily wasn't kidding when she said the T-shirts were free advertising. I guess I have Freddie to thank for me meeting Emily Fitch.

* * *

Despite having every intention of going to the gym for more than just my sessions with Emily I find it pretty hard to manage more than the two trips a week. I've never been all that active and my knees just seem to be getting worse with every visit. After three weeks of training with Fitch Fitness the twinge in my left knee has developed in to a full blown flare-up and the pain is practically intolerable. Emily suggested a knee support, but it's too bulky under my work trousers and it's hard to really move my knee in it when I'm at the gym; though I guess that's the point. I arrive early for our second session of the week, which is on a Friday afternoon. I'm already feeling tired and rundown from a long week at work and I've still got to get through a night out with Effy, Freddie and his best mate Cook tonight so I don't want to be overdoing it in training today. I already feel like my knee is about to drop off.

I scan my watch fob through the barrier at reception and throw a nod towards the young lad that works the desk when Barbie isn't on duty. He's a lot nicer than the plastic bitch and he usually makes an effort to talk to me. Most of the time it's to try and get my phone number, but at least he's polite about it. I head straight to the women's locker room to get changed. I've come straight from work, so for once I'm looking quite presentable in a tailored black suit and a fitted white shirt. I change in to my workout gear and shove everything in my locker just in time to see Emily walking in to the locker room. "Hey!" I go to wave at her, like an over excited teenage boy, and then realise it's not actually Emily. The Fitch standing in front of me has curly dark hair and is wearing far more makeup than is really necessary in a gym. It's Katie; Emily's twin. I've seen her around the gym a few times but I've never made conversation with her. She looks a bit chavvy to be honest.

She looks me up and down, obviously trying to assess whether I'm one of the more VIP clients of theirs. She comes to the conclusion I'm not as she takes in my battered Nike trainers. She doesn't bother to reply, just nods her head in my general direction. "I'm Naomi. I'm doing some training with your sister." I try to get a conversation going, hoping to befriend the older twin and maybe find out a little more about her sister. Like if she's single? Emily doesn't really give much away in our sessions, so even after three weeks of working with her I've still got a million questions about my tiny trainer.  
"Oh, you're her little pet project." Katie replies snidely with a curl of her lips.

Her reply throws me off guard. It was the last thing I was expecting to hear and I can feel my fists clenching at my sides. "I think you'll find that's _paying client_." I snap back at her, her bitchiness bringing out my own less than pleasant side. I don't _actually_ pay for Emily's services, but I'm hoping she doesn't know that. I'm saved from her retort when the door opens again and Emily rushes in. She's wearing a pretty summer dress and sandals. The sight throws me as I've never seen the other girl in anything other trackies or shorts.  
"Hey, sorry I'm late! I went out for lunch and lost track of time! Hey Katie, have you met Naomi?" Emily turns to her sister breathlessly as she kicks off her sandals and starts tucking her jogging bottoms on under her dress.  
"_Charmed._" Katie shoots me a sickly sweet smile for Emily's benefit. I think it's fair to say neither of us likes the other.

Emily doesn't miss the look we give each other as Katie slips out of the locker room. "Was she being a bitch to you?"  
"I thought that was the selling point of your staff here?" I tease and she rolls her eyes at me.  
"Just ignore her. She's just got her knickers in a twist because the bloke she's seeing might be cheating on her." Oh fuck. I'm not sure why but my thoughts instantly turn to Freddie and that damn T-shirt of his. I've never bumped in to him in the gym yet, but it hasn't escaped my attention that his fiancée might be someone who goes here. I hope to god that it's not Katie Fitch; I have a feeling she'd rip me a new one if she found out I knew about Freddie and Effy.

"Really? Does she know for sure, or does she just suspect something?" I probe, trying not to be too obvious about it as Emily pulls her dress off over her head and exchanges it for her polo shirt.  
"He's done it before." Emily shrugs. "I don't know why she took him back the first time. If you ask me, people like that don't deserve a second chance." I make a noise that could be seen as me agreeing with her and busy myself with tying the laces of my trainers.

"How are you doing today?" Emily asks me. The question is perfectly innocent, but I can't get Katie's 'pet project' comment out of my head.  
"Fine." I huff. It's a lie. My knee is aching and I've got a migraine starting behind my left eye. She looks at me doubtfully and I know she sees right through me. "Ok…so Katie said I was your 'pet project' and it pissed me off, ok?" I admit, knowing all too well that it will just gnaw away at me until I talk about it.  
"Katie's a bitch." Emily's stark honesty regarding her twin surprises me, as does the little smile playing on her lips. God this girl is adorable. I'm supposed to be pissed off at her, but it's hard to keep up when she's grinning at me.

"I've talked about you a bit, that's all. Not in any detail about your condition, I've just been doing a bit of research in to what kind of training might help." She shrugs and it's pretty endearing that she's going out of her way to help me. She _does_ keep sending me e-mails with links to articles on FMS and how a healthy lifestyle can help with pain management. "So, really, how are you?"  
"I feel like someone's taken a sledgehammer to my kneecap…sorry, my _patella." _She laughs at my subtle dig as she leads me to her office.

"Is that knee support not working?" Emily had been the one to suggest the athletic support.  
"No. It just feels like it's making it worse, it digs in when I bend my knee." I roll up the leg of my jogging pants to show her and she drops down beside me to inspect it.  
"Hmm. You might do better with a patella band, but that won't support the whole joint." Emily pokes and prods at my knee. She might be nice, but she's still a physio and they're never happy unless they're prodding at something. "I've got something we can try, it's more lightweight and it gives a better range of movement. Hop up on the bed."

"Why are you always trying to get me in to bed?" I tease, enjoying the flush that spreads over her cheeks as she shakes her head at me. I do as I'm told and hop up on to the examination bed that sits in the corner of her office. Emily rummages through the storage cupboard on the other side of the room and comes out with a roll of what looks like pink and black tape. "Bondage tape? I'm not sure how that will help me knee, and honestly it's not really my thing."  
"You're incorrigible, do you know that?"  
"Oh, I know that word!" I beam at her and her laughter lights up her whole face.

She rolls up my pant leg above my knee and places the tape and a pair of scissors down on the end of the bed beside me. "So what is this stuff?" I pick it up to inspect the pink roll of tape. I have a habit of picking things up. I can't help it; I just have to touch things.  
"It's kinesiology tape. It's like sports tape, but it gives more movement whilst encouraging blood flow and muscle recovery. You probably saw it a lot during the Olympics, all the coloured tape over the athlete's bodies?" Emily starts cutting strips and layering them over my bent knee. She makes a Y shape with the pink tape, starting mid-thigh and taking it down to my knee cap, where she takes the two ends and curves them around my kneecap. After that she takes a band of black tape and secures the pink tape at the top of my thigh and the bottom of my knee.

"That's it?" I frown at the colourful tape. "That seems pretty simple. How's it supposed to help my knee?"  
"It's not as easy as it looks. I had to take a course on how to stretch and position the tape right. It costs like three hundred quid!"  
"Wow, you were robbed." I smirk as Emily shoots me a playful glare. "Try the tape for a few days. You'll see it's worth every penny. It's waterproof so you don't need to worry about showering with it."  
"Hmm." I'm still not convinced, but I'll give it a go. "If this works you know you're taping my entire body up right?"  
"I'll start with your mouth." Emily challenges. I knew there was a reason I liked this girl.

She takes me through an easy cardio routine in the main room of the gym, knowing that I'm not up to anything intense. "Doing anything this weekend?" I ask casually as we do a warm down on the floor mats. If I had a pound for every time Emily's mentioned the importance of warming up and cooling down to me, well it would probably be enough to pay for my gym membership, that's for sure.  
"Not much. Just a quiet Friday night in front of the TV with my cat Pepper." Oh god, I hate cats. Force a smile, Campbell!

"Cool. I'm going out with a few mates…you should come." I shrug, trying to seem indifferent about the invite. I'm still praying that Freddie isn't seeing her sister, but if she accepts my offer to come out I can always ask him about it before Emily shows up. I'm not going to let that cheating prick get in the way of my love life; even if said love life is non-existent at the moment.  
"Oh…I would, but it's been a pretty long day. Maybe some other time?"  
"Sure." I force a smile even though she's blowing me off. I suppose she's at least doing it nicely. "I should probably get going or I'll be late."  
"Ok." Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but she looks a little disappointed as I get up to leave. "I'll see you Monday then… and don't forget to let me know how the tape works! Just don't try to pull it off yourself, that stuff hurts like a bitch when it comes off." Great, _now _she tells me!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me ages to update again, I just haven't been all that in to writing any of my Skins fics at the moment and work has  
been crazy. I'll try to update as often as I can as you guys have been awesome in reading and leaving feedback and I've had this fic planned for a while so I really want to get out! Also for those who commented on Kinesiology tape, it is indeed awesome ;)  
**

* * *

"Bollocks_._"I stare hopelessly at my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. The dress I'd planned on wearing tonight sits above my knee, showing off the multi-coloured tape that's wrapped around it. I bite my lip as I consider taking it off, but I remember Emily's words of warning about it hurting like a bitch if it's just ripped off. It's not like I could even put it back on if I did manage to get it off and I promised Em I'd try it out for a few days. I'll just have to wear something else.

It takes me an hour to find something else to wear, after pulling out half of my wardrobe I finally settle on some black leggings that stop at my ankle and a white shirt that doubles as a dress. I add a chunky black belt, some red heels and matching beads to complete my outfit. I've already done my hair so I just frump up the soft curls a bit in the mirror before I do my makeup.

"Took your fucking time." Effy rolls her eyes at me as I walk in to the living room and find her already pouring out drinks. The measures of vodka she's adding to the glasses are sure to have me on my arse after my first drink. It's been weeks since we've been out and it shows as I nearly choke on the vodka and coke she hands me. "Pussy." Effy smirks at me as she drinks from her own glass without any problem. I don't know how she does it. The stuff tastes like paint thinner. She knows just how to push my buttons though, so I take another gulp and force myself to swallow it.

"Where are we going tonight then?" I flop down beside her on the sofa and throw my legs over her as I carry on drinking.  
"I've got to work till eleven, after that we can go wherever you want; as long as it involves getting you fucked up _and _fucked."  
"Last time you said that Cook tried to take me to a brothel." I wrinkle my nose in distaste at the memory of the seedy place that James Cook took me to after our last night out; one of many of course. Cook is Freddie's best friend, they've known each other for years; not that they have much in common apart from smoking weed.

Cook's alright I suppose, when he's not trying to whisper vulgarities in my ear with his hand creeping up my skirt. He used to try his best to get me in to bed with him when Effy and Freddie first got together. He still does now, but it's mostly for show. He knows he doesn't stand a chance with me. Guys just aren't my thing. Cute redheads who happen to be personal trainers on the other hand… God, I wish Emily had taken me up on my offer to come out tonight. With the measures Effy pours I'd have the confidence to ask her out after one drink; or at the very least find out if she's actually gay or not.

"So what's happening with that girl at the gym? Have you asked her out yet?" Effy quizzes me while still managing to sound like she's not remotely interested in my answer; aloof is Effy's forte.  
"I invited her out tonight, but she had plans." I shrug it off like it's no big deal, but Effy sees right through my act. She knows what I'm like. I rarely take a chance an actually ask a girl out. If it wasn't for her or Cook setting me up with girls I wouldn't have ever been out with anyone. I consider myself a pretty confident person. I'll stand up for social justice and shout my mouth off about civil liberties, but when it comes to asking a girl for her phone number I suddenly become a mute. I just can't waltz up to someone and act all cool like Effy does, or cocksure like Cook. I can barely talk to a pretty girl, never mind flirt with one; that's why I'm so amazed at how easily being around Emily is.

"Her loss." Effy gives me a genuine smile which, coming from her, is a rarity. "We'll find you someone tonight." She shoots me a wink, which is more like her. I touch my knee and feel the tape underneath. It would be just my luck to pull tonight when my knee looks like it's been in a fight with a roll of electrician's tape. Fuck it! Whether I pull or not I'm going out to have fun tonight. I'm feeling pretty good and I have been since I started going to the gym, though I'm not sure whether that's to do with the endorphins that exercising releases or just from being around Emily.

I haven't seen Cook in weeks and I'm actually looking forward to being out tonight, so when Effy and I finally arrive at the club to meet the boys I let Cook pull me in for a crushing hug. Cook's hands drop to my arse and I slap them away, laughing at his predictability. "Alright gorgeous?" He leers at me, his eyes fixed on the low neckline of my shirt.  
"My eyes are up here, wanker." I cross my arms over my chest and he just laughs at my futile attempts to cover up.  
"It's not your eyes I'm interested in babe." He guffaws as he throws an arm around my shoulder and leads me straight for the bar. He's honest, I'll give him that.

I can't stay mad at him for long, by the time we get served at the bar my good mood is back and I'm even indulging him by playing his favourite game of picking out potential targets for the night. Despite being a first class arsehole he tends to be able to talk his way in to any girl's knickers. It's still early, so the club isn't exactly packed, but Cook's already got his eye on a handful of girls on the other side of the bar. They spot him looking their way and break in to chorus of giggling as he winks at them. I roll my eyes as I pay for our drinks. I hope he has the good sense to ask to see ID if he tries anything with any of them. The group of girls are dolled up to the nines with too much foundation and fake tan, but I'd put money on none of them actually being old enough to be in a pub, never mind a 21 bar.

I look back over at Effy to try and make her aware of the possibly underage group, seeing as she's the bar manager and it's her license on the line if there are minors drinking in here. Of course she's too busy snogging Freddie's face off to notice me. They're like a bunch of lovesick teenagers and it's enough to turn my stomach. Giving up I turn back to the young guy working behind the bar and tip him off about the group. He knows I'm friends with Effy so he nods his thanks and calls over one of the bouncers by the door. Within five minutes the group are being escorted out of the premises.

"Aw fuck." Cook grumbles as he sips his pint and watches them go. It doesn't take him long to pick out his next target, though he thankfully decides to stay and keep me company until Effy and Freddie can find the willpower to tear themselves away from each other. I can't help but think about Freddie's fiancée. I just don't get why he's still engaged when he's clearly in love with Effy. The boy is hopelessly smitten and even if Effy tries to hide it, she is too. I've been thinking about it a lot and I think he should just grow some balls and tell his fiancée it's over. Even if she is someone like Katie Fitch she doesn't deserve to be strung along. Nobody does.

"Can you believe I was shopping for tuxes with that fucker earlier?" Cook seems to read my mind as he nods his head towards his best friend with a sour look on his face.  
"He's still going ahead with the wedding then?" I try to be discrete as I probe for information on Freddie's fiancée. It's been bugging me ever since I found out it might be Emily's sister that he's supposed to be marrying.  
"Next month." Cook huffs in response. I hadn't realised it was quite that close. From the way Effy talked I figured the wedding was years off. "I've warned him if he fucks up I'll have Effy off him." Like I said, Cook's nothing if not honest. He's had a thing for Eff for as long as Freddie has. Effy likes to lead him on, but it's mostly just to get a reaction from Freddie.  
"What's she like? Freddie's future wife?" I can't believe he's supposed to be getting married in a month's time.

"She's well fit mate." Cook seems to cheer up a little bit as he manages to send a dirty leer my way. "She's a twin too, one each yeah?" He nudges me with his elbow and I start choking on my drink. He just laughs and pats me hard on the back, not realising why I'm really choking. Freddie's future wife _has _to be Katie. Emily said her twin was sure she was being cheated on and Freddie does go to the Fitch gym. _Fuck!_ I'm supposed to have aerobics with her Monday afternoon. How am I supposed to look her in the eye when I know her future husband is doing my best friend behind her back? I might not like the girl, but that doesn't stop me from feeling sorry for her. I mean, she's obviously head over fucking heels in love with the twat to be marrying him.

"How the fuck can he do that to someone he's supposed to be marrying?" I can't hold my tongue any longer. Cook shakes his head as he finishes off his pint.  
"They're just not right for each other Blondie… She's too good for that fucker." I don't know whether he's talking about Effy or Katie as he's busy staring at Effy as he answers and before I can ask him to elaborate he's ordering shots of tequila and shoving them under my nose. We stand at the bar and down shot after shot until the supervisor who's taking over from Effy finally turns up and we can go to another club.

We end up down the gay scene sometime in the early hours of the morning and I'm completely fucked by the time Cook pushes some lanky brunette my way to dance with me. She gives me a coy smile as she starts grinding against me. I try to back off, but I've got Cook pressed up against my back so I don't get very far. The girl is nice enough. She's pretty; but her hair is too brown and too short and she's just too tall. Her arms wrap around my waist as she tries to get in closer, but all I can think of is Emily. I want it to be her who has her hands on my hips as she leans in to kiss me, but it's not Emily that's going in for my lips. I pull away from the stranger with a polite smile. She doesn't quite get the hint though and tries to invade my personal space again.

For fuck's sake, can't she take a hint? I do the only thing I can think to do to get me out of this and slip my hand through Cook's and mouth sorry to the tall brunette. She shrugs with another coy smirk as she slides up beside Cook. He's grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of a threesome before I slip away from the pair of them. I've had enough. It's late and I'm tired. Everything's starting to hurt; except for my knee which seems to be holding up thanks to the layers of tape that Em wrapped around it earlier. I find Effy and Freddie, still wrapped around each other, and tell them I'm ordering a taxi home. Effy promises to come down and meet me once she's finished her drink so I head off down the steps of the club and back on to the street.

Its times like these that I wished I still smoked. I twirl a straw through my fingers as I wait for the others to come down. I think Cook will probably end up staying out with his new friend, but I hope Effy and Freddie won't be long. I can feel the cold air seeping through my clothes and in to my skin and my back tightens painfully as a result. I fucking hate this feeling, no matter how hard I try to relax the muscles in my back they just won't comply and pain starts shooting through my lower back. I'm hunched over with my arms wrapped around my chest by the time the taxi turns up. Eff and Freddie finally show up and share the taxi back to the flat with me. We leave Cook to his own devices, as we usually do.

When we get back to the flat I head straight in to the shower, letting the hot spray run over my aching body. The tape on my knee holds up pretty well against the water and I find myself staring down at the pink tape and grinning like an idiot as I think about seeing Emily again on Monday.

Once the muscles in my back unclench I finally step out of from under the water and wrap myself up in a big thick towel that's been sitting on the radiator all night. It's lovely and warm and I feel my eyes growing heavy as a steadfast fatigue washes over me. I'm practically asleep on my feet as I go to my room and change for bed. I can still feel a twinge in my back from getting a chill so I go to the kitchen for some painkillers and a glass of water before bed.

Freddie's standing by the fridge in nothing more than his boxers and pouring himself a glass of milk. His eyes are bloodshot and unfocused and he offers me a wide smile. He's more than likely had a couple of joints tonight. "Good night?" He quizzes and I shrug at him. My good mood from earlier has worn off and now I'm just aching and exhausted. I want to climb in to bed and sleep away the rest of the weekend. I've got an article that's due to be handed in to my editor by midweek so I'll probably stay in and work on in it tomorrow. I'm supposed to exercise every day as part of Emily's exercise plan for me, but I couldn't possibly face going to the gym. Maybe I'll go for a walk or something. It still counts. "'Night then." Freddie shuffles off towards Effy's room and I go back to mine after popping a couple of paracetamol. I crash in to bed and I'm out like a light before I can even pull the covers over me.

* * *

Monday afternoon sees me standing at the back of Katie Fitch's aerobics class, struggling to keep up with pensioners who are moving like they're on speed. I have absolutely no sense of direction or timekeeping, which makes trying to copy Katie's actions all the more difficult. She keeps catching me doing the wrong thing and glaring at me, which really isn't helping. How this girl considered herself fit to teach anyone anything is a mystery. Emily is far more patient than her marginally older sister. If I do something wrong in our training sessions she'll give me some 'constructive criticism' or sometimes she'll just gently move me in to the right position, whether my leg's too far out from my hip or my arm's too low when I'm lifting a weight; sometimes I deliberately get it wrong.

After turning the wrong way and bumping in to a woman who's old enough to be my grandmother, and receiving yet more scorn from Katie, I'm ready to call it a day. I'm just not sure how to slip out of the class without Katie setting the hounds on me. She probably has hired goons lurking around to stop deserters. Maybe I should dig a tunnel or set off the fire alarm; or just throw myself on the floor and start screaming I've pulled something?

I'm still contemplating my escape when I feel a hand on the small of my back. I stop my jogging on the spot to look over my shoulder and find Emily standing behind me with a conspiratorial smile. She cocks her head towards the door and I bolt for it without a second thought. Katie shoots us both a steely glare, but Emily just tosses her sister a careless wave on her way out. We're both laughing and giggling like two school girls playing hooky as we walk in to Emily's office.

"Did you see her face? She's going to murder me!" I crack up as I throw myself down on the phyisio table in the corner of the room and lie back against the soft padding. "She'll probably use a kettle ball to smash my head in or something!"  
"Remember you need to cool down properly!" Emily scorns as she rolls her eyes at me. She's been trying to drum warming up and cooling down in to me every time I exercise but it never seems to sink in. I hate stretching; I usually end up pulling something, though I've got to admit I don't tend to be quite as sore the following day if I follow Emily's strict warm up and cooling down routine.

"Yeah, yeah!" I wave my hand dismissively and she knows I have no intention of doing any stretching as I place my hands behind my head to get comfy.  
"Now Campbell!" She tries to snap at me, but her words have no weight behind them and it's pretty hard to take her seriously when she's still smirking at me.  
"In a minute." I mumble back at her and close my eyes over to goad her. My heart is still pounding in my chest from the aerobics and I'm far too comfy to move right now. I just want to lie her and get my breath back, but Emily has other ideas.

Before I can register what's happening her hands are clamping around my ankles and she's pulling me forward, dragging me half off the bed. My eyes fly open as I sit up and grab hold of her shoulders to steady myself. "I love it when you're rough." I tease her, still trying to catch my breath. I laugh at the blush that spreads across her cheeks, but the sound dies in my throat as I catch her eyes dipping towards my lips. Fuck… it's now or never Campbell.

With my hands on her shoulders and my legs pretty much wrapped around her waist we're already so close that it doesn't take very much for me to bring my mouth up to hers. I kiss her before I lose my nerve and her lips part in surprise. Her fingers dig in to my ankles as her hands clench and she lets out a little gasp. She doesn't try and stop me though. I move my lips against hers. Slowly at first, giving her a chance to tell me to stop before I make a tit of myself; but she doesn't ask me to stop. Her lips finally move and she's kissing me back.

It's over all too briefly though as she suddenly jumps back, her eyes wide with something close to fear. She touches her fingers to her lips as she looks down at the linoleum floor and I feel the pit of my stomach dropping as she can't look me in the eye. "Naomi, I…I'm seeing someone." She finally chokes out after what seems like an eternity and I feel like there's a band tightening itself around my chest. Why the fuck did I have to go and kiss her? Why couldn't I have just left it alone? God, it's hard enough knowing Effy is fucking her sister's fiancé. How the hell am I supposed to face her now after that incredibly hot, yet now awkward, kiss?

"She's a lucky girl." I try for sincerity but it just comes out as flippant and I could kick myself as I see the flash of hurt cross the smaller girl's face. Way to go and fuck things up Campbell! "Em, I'm sorry. I-"  
"I'm getting married, Naomi… To a man…I'm straight."

_Fuck._

How could I get things so wrong? How could I think a girl like Emily Fitch could actually be interested in _me_? All of her concern, all of the time she's spent trying to help me, even all of the touching, that was her just doing her job! Of course it was! And I go and fucking molest her! Nicely done Campbell!  
_  
Fuck!_

She's straight! She's getting married! Wait…

_Oh, fuck. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the wait again! I haven't really been working any of my Skins stuff lately, but I'm trying to get back in to them. I should have a bit of time to catch up over the next few weeks as I'm off work after I managed to wreck my knees doing a few too many 60 hour weeks. Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and for the amazing feedback; I promise the next chapter won't take me so long to get up!**

Fuck, I can't breathe! My lungs are on fire and my knees are aching as I bend over to try and catch my breath. I'm standing in front of a bus stop where an old lady with a poodle is sitting waiting to catch the bus out of town. She's looking at me with a sneer of disdain, like I'm some sort of hood who's going to rob her at knife point. I can't exactly blame her. My hood _has _fallen up over my head from bending over and my work-out clothes do give me a certain chav look. Not to mention my hair is plastered to my face with sweat and my cheeks are flushed from running.

The pain in my bad knee has spread down my shins and up my thighs and I have to slump down on to one of the plastic seats at the bus stop. The old woman and the poodle both shuffle to the left away from me, but I'm too preoccupied to care.

She's straight.

Emily _fucking-gorgeous-flirty-as-fuck _Fitch is straight! I'd thought maybe worst case scenario she'd tell me she was seeing someone, but the fact that she might be straight hadn't really been a major concern; not with how touchy-feely she is during our training sessions!

Christ, she's going to fucking hate me! There she is trying to help me and I go and fucking molest her! I need a cigarette. I'm bloody choking for one; though it's only as I'm digging through my pockets that I remember I gave up weeks ago. I give up my search, knowing it's futile, and sink my head in to my hands. I've screwed up big time. I've fucked up before when it comes to girls, but this takes the absolute biscuit for fucking up!

I jump as I feel my phone going off in my pocket and I'm just glad I had it on me when I ran out of Fitch Fitness. My bag and all of my stuff, including my house keys, are all currently sitting in my locker at the gym. Well they're just going to have to stay there because I can never show my face there ever again!

I feel utterly humiliated and also a little bit angry. Why do straight girls flirt like that? Why do they think it's fun to lead you on, build you up and then turn their noses up at you? I mean she knew I was gay, didn't she? I let the number six bus pass me by as I sit pondering my own question. Now that I think about it I can't remember expressly telling her I was gay, or talking about any girls or anything; but she'd had to have known, right? I'm not exactly a hundred footer, but she must have known!

Oh god, the queasiness in the pit of my stomach grows stronger as I realise she might not have had a clue I was gay. Maybe she wouldn't have been so up close and personal with me if she had? "Fuck." I curse to myself, startling the woman beside me and setting the poodle off barking. I glare at them both as I tug my hood back up and shove my hands deep in to my pockets, hunching over for added effect as I trudge out of the bus stop. My Nikes splash in the little puddles left over from this morning's rain. The clouds overhead are grey and heavy, like they're getting ready to burst.

I ignore all of the busses that pass me by and choose to walk home instead. My entire body is aching by the time I get back to the flat, the cold having seeped through the thin layers of clothing. I don't care. I'm numb by the time I climb the steps to the flat and slam my fist against the door to get Effy to open up. When the door opens the soft warm glow of the lamp in the hallway spills out in to the street and I'm met with a blast of warm air that makes me realise just how cold I really am.

The long walk home has given me time to think things over, and a few things have fallen in to place for me. Effy opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "You fucking knew didn't you?"  
"Want to give me a clue?" She shoots back, unfazed by my outburst as I shove my way in through the front door.  
"Emily! You fucking know what I'm talking about so don't deny it!" She has the good grace to at least look a little abashed as she nods at me. It doesn't help though. I'm still seething inside.  
"I didn't know for sure. When you mentioned Fitch Fitness the other day, I figured you'd just have to go and fall for the Fitch bitch-"

"Don't call her that." I growl at my best friend as I defend a girl I've only known for a few weeks. Effy's clearly taken aback by this. We've been friends for years and I think she expects me to back her up no matter what. I almost feel a little bit guilty, but Effy's response quashes any sympathy I might have felt towards her.  
"You know she's straight, right? Unless going to the gym can help you grow a dick, you don't have a chance." Her words are like a slap in the face, but I don't take them lying down.  
"You know what Eff? I get it now. Why he won't leave her for you…I sure as fuck wouldn't!"

* * *

Three days after our fight and Effy and I haven't spoken a word to each other. I've been working late every night this week and living out of my room. The place is a shit hole as I kick empty pizza boxes out of my way in search of a matching pair of socks. I hate the tension between me and Eff, but it's not like either of us is known for backing down and apologising. I'm still mad as hell with her, but it's not like one fight is going to end years of friendship. Maybe I'll bring a nice bottle of wine home with me tonight and see if we can mend some bridges; if all else fails I'll just drink the damn wine myself and move in to my mum's for a few days.

I'm running late for work as it is, so when I hear the doorbell go I leave it for Effy to get; it's probably Freddie popping in for an early morning shag anyway. I haven't seen him lately. Effy must have told him to keep a low profile around me, not that I think she would have told him I tried to kiss his future wife. He'll flip if he finds out what's been going on; the cheating bastard.

I'm just pulling on my favourite black shirt and buttoning it up when Effy calls for me. It's literally the first time I've heard her voice in days and it takes me by surprise. "What?" I snap back at her impatiently as I throw open my bedroom door. My room is the closest to the front door so as soon as I step out of it I'm met by the sight of our unexpected visitor. "Emily…" Seeing the little redhead standing there on my doorstep sends up an instant red flag. She's tried calling me a few times since I ran out of the gym, but three days of stewing about the kiss have just made me even more mortified and I still can't face her.

Of course there's always the possibility that she's not here to see me at all and she's found out what's going on between Effy and her soon to be husband. I suppose the fact that neither of them is throwing punches is probably a sign that Emily's here for me. "Hey." Emily greets me with a small wave. She looks more nervous than I feel. Effy staring at her probably isn't helping, and I'm not doing much more.  
"Hi." I finally breathe out, at a loss for what else to say. "What are you doing here?" She looks sheepishly in Effy's direction and I could almost punch myself in the face, I'm so sodding stupid. It's not enough I embarrassed her by kissing her, now I expect her to announce it to the whole world too.

"You missed our last session. I wanted to check in, make sure everything was ok." She covers well. She has no idea that Effy knows everything. Hell, Effy knows more than any of us. "Do you have time to grab a cup of coffee or something, so we can talk?" Talk? Am I missing something? I'm the one who cocked up and she's the one making the effort to sort it out? God, Effy and I could really take a page out of her book. Why does she have to be so bloody nice? It just makes me feel even more shit about what's going on.

"Uh, yeah…I'll just grab my bag, give me a second." I dive back in to my room, pull on my suit jacket and pick up my leather satchel in record time. The last thing I want is the future Mrs Freddie McClair being left alone with Effy for too long.  
"Bye darling." Effy chooses now of all times to start speaking to me again. I flip her off behind Emily's back as we're walking down the road. Effy just smirks at me. That's progress I suppose.

Emily and I walk in silence until we get to the coffee shop at the end of the road. I send my editor a hasty text, fobbing him off with some phony family emergency. I'm supposed to be handing an article in today, but it can wait an hour. "Your girlfriend seems nice." Emily starts and I almost choke on my boiling hot coffee.  
"She's not…Effy and I are…we're just friends." Ok there might be some history there after the odd night out when we were younger, but for all intents and purposes we're just friends; maybe even less than that after this whole Freddie thing.

"I'm sorry." I blurt out as an awkward silence settles over us. "The other day, I shouldn't have tried to…I'm so sorry."  
"Just forget it." Emily shrugs it off as if we just had some trivial misunderstanding; like I accidentally put sugar in her tea or something. "I didn't realise you were… I was actually a little bit flattered." Her throaty laugh and the way she ducks her head has my stomach in knots. Honestly, straight girls should come with a fucking health warning.

"You know I think this is the first time I've seen you in jeans." Emily points out as the conversation dies again. She's really trying her best to stop things being weird between us. I should be the one doing all of the leg work. I'm the one who stepped over the line; or you know, took a running jump over it.  
"I'm still waiting to see you in anything other than a polo shirt." I tease, only realising it sounds like I'm flirting after the words have left my mouth. God this is hard. Why does she have to be so gorgeous? She laughs, but it's a little bit forced and I can see her fidgeting with a sugar packet. I hate the thought that I'm making her uncomfortable.

"You don't have to do this Em. You don't have to be nice to me. I can stop coming to the gym-"  
"No!" Emily cuts me off. "I don't want you to stop coming to the gym. I meant what I said about wanting to help you. To be honest I thought we were kind of becoming friends."  
"Only I got a little too friendly." For fuck's sake Campbell, keep your mouth shut! I swear I've got some sort of problem.

"Well we both know where we stand now, so how about we start over?" Emily suggests with that perfect little smile of hers. She sticks her hand out towards me. "I'm Emily Fitch and I'm a physical therapist."  
"Nice to meet you Emily. I'm Naomi Campbell, and I'm a dick head."  
"No you're not." Emily rolls her eyes at me with a chuckle and sips her coffee. "I really mean it Naomi, I'd like us to be friends."  
"Me too." I'd like us to be a whole lot more, but it doesn't look like pigs are going to start flying any time soon. How the hell did I ever convince myself that I had a shot with her?

I just wish it was that easy for us to pick up where we left off as friends. Even if Emily's ok with me trying to kiss her, there's still the small matter of her being engaged to my best friend's boyfriend. I'm not sure how we're meant to work around that one; I still can't believe the tosser is cheating on her. "So I'll see you for yoga tomorrow?"  
"Bright and early." I force myself to sound cheery about the prospect of a 6am yoga class with Emily. She's still smiling when we leave the coffee shop so I think I might have just pulled it off.

I head to the office after walking Emily to work and drop off the article I was supposed to have on my editor's desk by nine o'clock. The great thing about journalism is that I can work from home when I feel like it, so after a couple of less than productive hours at my desk I call it a day and go back to the flat. I pop in to Tesco and pick up a curry and some wine for dinner. Effy's working the late shift all this week so she's still sleeping when I get back. When she finally drags her lazy arse out of bed I've got dinner on the table and offer her a full glass of wine. She takes it without a word and just like that we've managed to call some sort of truce. We don't talk about Emily or Freddie all night. Effy and I have the same problem solving logic in life, in that we simply avoid talking about the problem until it either goes away or blows up in our faces.

Freddie turns up a couple of hours before Effy's supposed to leave for the club. I wonder where he told Emily he was going at this time of night to get out of the house. What kind of lies does he feed her? I know I shouldn't be thinking about this stuff, but it's constantly playing on my mind. I've been half tempted to call Cook up and invite him out for a drink to try and get him to spill some more details about Freddie and his fiancée.

"Hey Naomi." He greets me as he slips off his shoes and loosens his tie. He looks like he's comes straight from the office. He has some boring job in finance. I've never paid all that much attention to what he does to be honest.  
"Hey." I nod back at him and pick up my wine glass from the coffee table. "I was just going to bed. I've got an early yoga class anyway."  
"Yoga?" He scoffs at me as he flops down on the settee, taking my place and pulling Effy in against him. "Where's the real Naomi and what have you done with her?"  
"Funny." My response is hardly my most witty, but I don't want to start an argument with him tonight. God knows what I'd end up coming out with.

The next morning I'm leaving the house for the gym just as Effy's getting back in from work. I'm still not sold on this yoga lark. The stretching is just damn painful to start with and I almost fall asleep as Emily takes us through the breathing techniques. The class is small, so I'm joined by a half a dozen other idiots who were up at the crack of dawn to come here.

"Watch your posture Campbell." Emily drops down behind me as I'm still trying to master the basic sitting position; three lessons in. "Here, bend this knee a little more so it's not putting so much pressure on your ASL." She leans over me to put my leg in to the right position. I take a deep breathe, and start counting to ten in my head. Honestly, you kiss a girl once and suddenly it's all you can think about whenever they're within a fifty foot radius.  
"What's my ASL? Isn't that like my broadband connection or something?"  
"It's the anterior cruciate ligament, this one here." She runs her fingers along the outside of my knee to demonstrate. Fuck, I had to ask didn't I?

"Right next to my patella."  
"You're learning." She winks at me before moving on to the woman beside me to help her. She's standing on one leg with the other wrapped around her neck; it looks like she'd be better off with a chiropractor than a physical therapist, even a very hands on one. Emily's still very touchy-feely with me, that hasn't stopped; which is a blessing and a curse. It shows Emily's not freaked out about me being gay, even after I tried to kiss her, but at the same time it's agonising to have her touching me when I know there's nothing in it.

By the time the lesson ends I'm dying to run off, but Emily corners me. "Hey, you made some good progress today. You might even be on to your second pose by next week."  
"I don't think yoga's my thing." I admit. "Maybe I should take up something easier, like bull fighting?"  
"Maybe you should just try harder at this?" She says it in a tongue-in-cheek way, but that doesn't stop me from being offended.  
"I am trying!" I object, a little hurt by the accusation that I'm not. "I bet you a tenner I can learn to do the…the crane! I'll learn the crane by next week!" I cross my arms over my chest smugly.

"The crane?" Emily smirks at me, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "You have no idea what that is, do you?"  
"Of course I do." I bluff.  
"Really? So you'll be able to do this by next week?" She drops down to the mat and puts her arms out in front of her to take her weight as she arches her back and brings her knees up to her shoulders while keeping her toes straight. Her balance is perfect and she doesn't even wobble despite the fact that the muscles in her arms are straining against her skin.

"Fuck, I think I got confused with that one out of the Karate Kid." I'm stubborn, but there is no way I could learn to do that in a year, never mind a week. I have zero balance and little flexibility, hence my utter lack of progress in Emily's yoga class. She just laughs at me as she gets herself out of the position with the same ease she got in to it. Damn that girl is really flexible; Freddie is one lucky bastard.

God, I really need to stop thinking about stuff like that. I'm not sure how long I can keep this up; pretending to be happy to be her friend when all I want to do is kiss her again. It's fucking unbearable.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So I promised this chapter wouldn't take me as long to get up and a couple of days is definitely better than a couple of months! Thank you to everyone who's still reading, I rarely abandon fics but do get a bit side tracked sometimes. I'm off work for the foreseeable future so should get plenty of time to work on this and my other Skins fics.**

* * *

"You're actually trying to kill me, aren't you Fitch?" I grumble at Emily as I lie sprawled out on one of the floor mats in the gym. We've been working on stretching exercises for the better part of an hour and every muscle in my body is screaming in protest. It's been a few days since she came round to my house to clear the air and things seem to have settled down between us. There's still the crushing weight of knowing her fiancé is a cheating scumbag, but I'm doing my best not to think about that when I'm around her. It's easy not to think about a lot of things when Emily's wearing a tiny tank top, treating me to a view of her nicely toned abs. Of course, now that she knows I'm gay, I've got be careful about staring at her too much.

"Anything to stop you whining Campbell." I roll my eyes at her as she teases me. I'm glad things have pretty much gone back to normal between us. There's been a couple of times when she's gone a bit quiet on me after I've said something a little too flirtatious or if we've touched for a little too long, but I've got to hand it to the girl she's taken the whole me trying to kiss her thing in her stride.

"Alright girls, how's it going? Working hard there Naomi?" Rob Fitch greets us he walks in to the main gym carrying a stack of clean towels. He's a pretty nice bloke and I can see where Emily gets it from. He's always talking to me whenever I'm in; usually it's conversations about whey protein mixes or what vitamins I should be taking, but it's still nice of him to make the effort, even if I don't have a clue what he's talking about half the time.  
"I'm whining according to your daughter."  
"Our Emily's a tough nut, but she'll see you right! See you Em." He grins at me and tosses a wave in his daughter's direction before walking off to get rid of the pile of linen he's carrying.

"So, what fresh hell have you got for me next?" I ask wryly, though the truth is I'm actually starting to get in to this whole fitness thing. I avoid the cross trainers and the stepping machines like the plague as they both aggravate the shit out of my knees, and I'm not too keen on the spin bikes, but other than I pretty much let Emily decide my routine for me.  
"Actually, you can call it a day if you want? I've got to leave early today." I can't deny I'm a little disappointed, but I try not to let it show as she helps me up to my feet.  
"Oh, doing anything nice?"  
"Just a bit of shopping." She shrugs off the question and for some reason I get the impression she's only giving me half an answer. She looks uncomfortable as she finally gives up the rest of it. "For rings actually; we're getting our wedding bands today."

She doesn't exactly sound thrilled about this. Emily's far from a blushing bride. She doesn't gush on about her upcoming nuptials like most women do. In fact she barely mentions her fiancé whatsoever. Hell, I don't think she's even told me Freddie's name yet – something I've got to be mindful of when we're talking. If she hadn't told me she was getting married I still wouldn't have a clue she was even seeing anyone.

Of course when she says 'we' she's not talking about the royal we, so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise when we're both heading out the door and we run in to her husband to be. Freddie stands at the entrance, slack jawed and wide eyed as he takes in the sight of me standing next to Emily. It looks like Effy hasn't told him about me knowing Emily yet; he looks sick to his stomach as he tries to force a smile Emily's way without staring at me. His two worlds have just crashed together and he's standing there like he's got whiplash. "H-hey, sweetheart." He stumbles over his words and places a clumsy kiss on her cheek. Seeing me here has thrown him for a loop and I can see the panic mounting in his eyes. "Ready to go?"

"Hey. Yeah, I was just saying goodbye to Naomi. Naomi, this is Freddie, my fiancé." Emily introduces us and we just stare at each other. I'm caught between playing dumb and breaking down and telling her the truth. Freddie takes the decision out of my hands as he recovers first and holds out his hand to me.  
"Freddie McClair, nice to meet you Naomi." His smile is strained and his eyes are begging me to play along. I reach out and take his hand, sealing my fate. It's too late to do anything now.  
"Nice to meet you too."

"We better be off. I'll see you Friday though Naoms." Emily's goodbye is pretty friendly and I can practically see the wheels in Freddie's mind turning. No doubt Effy will be getting a frantic phone call if he can find five minutes to tear himself away from shopping for his wedding ring.

Sure enough, when I walk through the front door Effy is sitting waiting for me. She's opened a bottle of wine and poured me a glass of wine. I pick it up as I drop my kitbag on the floor and flop down beside her. I think I'm going to need a few more glasses by the end of the night.

"Freddie called. He's freaking out over your little meeting today."  
"Me and him both." I grumble as I kick my trainers off and let them clatter to the floor with a thud. "It's good to see your keeping things from him too."  
"I'm a big believer in equal opportunities, besides I knew he'd freak out if he found out you were anywhere near Fitch Bitch-"

"Why do you call her that? Emily is like the nicest fucking person I know! She's sweet and she's kind and she does shit for other people without expecting anything back!" I'm really sick of Effy being such a bitch. She doesn't even know Emily. She's met her once for like five seconds and all she knows about her is what Freddie's told her.

"It's easier to think he'll leave her if she's not so damn perfect." Effy tries to shrug with indifference, but what she's just said is the probably the closest thing I've ever heard to her admitting she actually cares about something.  
"I didn't know you wanted him to leave her." Up until now I'd honestly just thought Freddie was something for her to pass the time. It's never occurred to me that she might actually want what they have to be real. It's like a punch to face as I realise I know fuck all about what's going on with my best friend right now.

"Do you think he ever will?" I ask, hoping she'll keep going on and not clam up like usual.  
"You wouldn't." She answers, though she smiles to let me know that she's only teasing me. "I don't know. He says he still loves her, but just not in the way he's supposed to. Things haven't been right between them in a while… they haven't slept together in months." So _he _tells her. I keep my comments to myself and let her carry on. It's rare to find Effy in such a talkative mood. "He says he wants to leave, he just doesn't want to hurt her." Yeah, because going behind her back and stringing her along with this sham wedding isn't hurting her in the slightest. For all I'm trying to keep my mouth shut, she reads my disgust right off my face.

"She won't thank you for telling her you know. It's not like she'll going running in to your arms if you tell her he's a cheating bastard." She's right and we both know it. When Emily finds out the truth it won't just be Freddie in the firing line. I sealed my fate this afternoon when I went along with him pretending we'd just met. Emily's met Effy now. If she finds out about Effy then she'll figure out I knew all about the affair and she'll hate me for it. I take a second as I close my eyes over; trying to come up with a way this can all work out without blowing in my face. There isn't one.

I let out a heavy sigh as I get back to my feet. It's been a long day and I'm starting to stiffen up after my workout so I decide an early night is in order. I stop as I reach the living room door, deciding that I should take a leaf out of Emily's book and not be so damn self-centred for once. I should be thinking about my friend. "If he really cares about you both then he should just be honest with her…not shopping for wedding rings."  
"I'll make sure to tell him that." Effy remarks dryly, though I can see her biting her lip. She hates talking about feelings. I'm surprised she's even talking to me about this stuff to start with. "Are you really being a boring sod and going to bed? We've got the rest of this bottle to finish."

I end up giving in and sitting back down. I'm not one to pass up on free wine. We're still sitting there when the door goes around midnight; my early night has definitely gone out of the window. "Where is she?" I hear Freddie growling from the hallway before he storms in to the living room like a bear with a sore head. I would be intimidated if he wasn't such a wet towel. At almost twenty-three he's still got the body of a teenage boy, with his gangly arms and perpetual slouch. He looks like an overgrown school boy with his shirt hanging out of his suit pants and his tie sitting halfway down to his waist. "What the fuck were you doing with Emily?"

"Um, some squats, some leg stretches, a few sit ups?" I really can't help the sarcasm; it's just in my nature.  
"I'm sorry, let me rephrase that for you Naomi, what the fuck are you doing hanging about with _my _fiancée you stupid bitch?" He really is panicking over this. I've never heard him raise his voice before; it's like watching a toddler take a tantrum in the middle of Tesco.  
"She's been going to the gym, Emily's her trainer." Effy tries to defend me as she follows him back in to the living room.  
"You knew about this?" He forgets all about me as he rounds on Eff. "What the hell Effy? Why didn't you tell me?"

"She only just found out!" I lie. Effy and I might have spent most of the week being mad at each other but she's the closest thing to a sister that I have. "I had no idea Emily was your girlfriend…by the way, how _did _ring shopping go? Find anything you like?" I shoot him a sickly sweet smile.  
"Naomi!" Effy reprimands me. She moves in to put a hand on Freddie's arm but he pulls away and sneers at her too.  
"I'm going home!"  
"Back to the little woman?" I really wasn't kidding about the sarcasm. I can't help it; it's practically a syndrome.

"Stay. You're here now." Effy tries to persuade him as she slides a hand under his shirt. God, I really don't need to see this.  
"Yeah Freds, stay. I'm going to bed anyway, got to be up early in the morning for yoga." I slip passed the two of them and make it all the way to my room before Freddie realises that it's Emily leading the class in the morning.  
"Fucking bitch!"

I was kidding about going to yoga; I really don't need to be putting myself through that more than once a week. I wake up late, so of course Freddie's already been in the shower and used all of the hot water. I'm still cursing him as I stumble in to the kitchen to get my breakfast. "Morning." He huffs at me with a mouthful of Coco Pops. I nod at him in return and start filling up a bowl of my own. Freddie and I don't usually exchange many words, especially not at seven in the morning, but this morning seems to be the exception. "About last night…I'm sorry I lost it. Look, I know you think I'm a dick and all, but I really don't want to hurt Em."

"Then stop dicking her around. Emily's not the only one you're hurting in this situation; so choose." I really didn't want to get in to this with him. I've tried to stay out of it, but I just can't keep my mouth shut anymore. Emily's sort of my friend now too.  
"It's complicated." He sighs as he rubs at the stubble on his chin. "You wouldn't understand."  
"Try me."  
"For fuck's sake…we've been friends since we were like eleven, ok? I spent years fancying her, hanging around her like her fucking gay best friend until she finally figured out I was in love with her."  
"So what happened? Why did you stop?" Emily's perfect. She's gorgeous and funny and I can't believe anyone could ever stop loving her. I'd give my right arm for a girl like that.

"I didn't. I love her now as much as I did back then…it's just different." He seems to have aged ten years over night. His eyes are framed by dark circles and they're heavy with grief as they settle on me.  
"What changed?" I feel perverse asking him. I should just drop it and walk out of the room, but I can't. It's like driving past a train wreck and being unable to look away. When he finally replies I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or sad about his answer. I just don't know how to take it.  
"She stopped loving me back."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** **Another week and another update!** **This is so much easier to write when I don't have to feel guilty about not getting to the gym myself! As ever, thanks for reading and for the feedback!**

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"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" My arms feel like they're about to drop off; given that I've got a barbell the weight of a small child hanging over my head right now, that would definitely be a bad thing. My arms are locked and they start to shake as the weight becomes too much. I can't lift the barbell that little bit further to reach the rack at the top of the bench. Emily must have warned me not to try and lift weights without a spotter at least a dozen times, but it's not like there's much on the bar and I managed the first few reps fine. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to lift on my own.

"Whoa there! Easy love!" Oh thank god! I've never been so relieved to hear a scouse accent in all of my life as Rob Fitch takes hold of the bar and places it back down on the cradle. I let my arms flop down on to my chest and breathe a sigh of relief. "What were you doing lifting on your own? You need a spotter there for you in case you run in to trouble!" Rob chastises me with a shake of his head.  
"Well he was doing it!" I object, aware I sound like a petulant three year old as I point at the bloke a few benches down who is lifting on his own too. He looks like he's got to be at least sixty. I mean Christ, if he can lift a few weights on his own then I should be able to.

"That's Bob; he used to be British weight lifting champion back in the seventies. You can lift by yourself when _you_ become Mr Universe." He teases me, still wearing his usual enormous grin stretched across his face.  
"I'll get right on that." I snap at him. I know he means well and he did do me a favour by stopping me from dropping a ton weight on my face, but that doesn't stop me from sulking. I hate being told what to do.  
"Emsy said you were a firecracker!" Rob doesn't seem fazed by my attitude. I guess having Katie for a daughter has prepared him for anything.

I'm a bit surprised to find out Emily's talked about be me at all and it must show on my face because he quickly covers his bases. "Don't look so nervous; she's only got good things to say about you." He claps me on the shoulder after helping me to my feet. "Speak of the devil." He nods at Emily as he spots her coming in through the door and heading to her office with her arms full. Her hair is tied back, the deep red looking muted under the fluorescent lights of the gym. She's wearing her staff polo shirt, but for once she's got jeans on instead of trackies. She looks like she's running late, but she stops as she spots me and her dad.

"Naomi? Am I late?" She turns her wrist to check her watch and almost drops the paper bag she's cradling in her arms.  
"No, I'm early. I thought I'd warm up." I work a half day Fridays so I decided to come to the gym early for our afternoon session. It looks like Emily's on her lunch break or something.  
"This one was trying to bench press on her own. You might want to keep a closer eye on her." Rob drops me straight in it and Emily's still lecturing me as we go in to her office.

"You could have been seriously hurt Naomi! Someone with your decreased muscle strength-"  
"Yes _Mum, _I know." I snap at her. She takes the hint and lets it drop. It's my turn to lecture her though as I notice what she's been carrying. "Is that a McDonalds?"  
"I'm on my lunch." She shrugs at me, though her cheeks start to go a bit red at being caught out. She's been lecturing me on the importance of nutrition to go along with my exercise regime.

"How come you get to have a Big Mac for lunch, yet you bang on at me to avoid, and I quote, 'processed crap'? Isn't that like_ all_ of your calories for today?"  
"Alright, I spent half of lunch going over a sodding stupid seating plan with my mum and I had to grab something quick on the way back in. Besides, I burn through a lot more calories than most people. I'll have this worked off in an hour." She winks at me as she unwraps her burger. I've got a few ideas how she can work off her lunch and they're all a lot more fun than the prospect of an hour in the gym. I feel bad about intruding on what's left of her break, but she's the one who insisted I could wait in her office with her.

"I always get a craving for chicken when I've been here. I think it might have something to do with that KFC down by the bus stop." I muse as I steal a few of her fries. She doesn't object, she just caries on sitting crossed-leg on her desk making her way through her lunch.  
"It's your body's way of telling you that you want more protein. It's a macronutrient, your body needs it to repair damaged muscle tissues. You should invest in a high protein recovery shake for after you workouts."  
"I tried one, it tasted like cardboard." I scrunch my face up at the memory of the less than pleasant milkshake I picked up in Tesco the other day.  
"Munch much cardboard do you?" Emily teases. She catches my eye and we both can't help but to burst out in hysterics.

I still can't believe how easy things are between us after that kiss. I'm surprised Emily's even let me back in her office after what happened. Most girls wouldn't want me anywhere near them. I just don't get her sometimes. She's impossible to read.

"Here, try this." She leans over to grab her shaker out of her kitbag and her shirt rides up, treating me to a view of her stomach. I'd love to do body shots off those abs of hers. The shaker she hands me is one of those expensive looking ones that I've seen in sports shops; the ones that are BMA free and have specially moulded grips. The liquid inside looks just the same as the protein shake I tried last time. It's a bland pale creamy colour that does nothing to capture my interest like the cheeseburger does. I sniff at it dubiously. "Just try it! I promise you won't be disappointed!"  
"That's what all the girls say." I remark dryly as I bring the beaker up to my lips.

I've got to say I'm pleasantly surprised by the taste of the milkshake. It's not as bland as the last one I tried. It actually tastes like white chocolate rather than stale milk or soggy cardboard. "Well?" She asks, keen to hear my opinion.  
"Not bad." I shrug as I try to hand it back to her. "It's got nothing on KFC though."  
"Keep it for after your workout, you'll see the difference. You know a good diet can be just as beneficial as exercise." She smiles patiently at me. "Eating the right stuff can make a world of difference."  
"Says the girl scoffing her face." I tease.

"What are you doing tonight?" Emily quickly changes the subject and catches me off guard. It's Effy's night off so I'll probably end up going out on the piss with her, Freddie and Cook. It's not like I can share my plans with Emily, so I end up stumbling over my words as I make something up.  
"Not much. I'll probably just go see my mum or something."  
"Why don't you come over for dinner? I'll give you a few lessons in proper nutrition." The invitation is right out of the blue and I don't know what to say to it. So I end up saying the stupidest thing I possibly could have.

"Won't your fiancé mind?" Freddie would kill me if he caught me in the house he shares with Emily. We haven't really spoken since our last little chat in my kitchen; when he told me that he's sure Emily doesn't love him anymore. I've got to admit I think he might have a point; Emily doesn't exactly go on like a blushing bride should, but at the same time it's no excuse for him to be going off with Effy. If he's that unhappy with things he should just grow some balls and leave her already.

"He's out with some of the lads from work." She shrugs. She always looks so uncomfortable whenever Freddie is mentioned. It makes me wonder; if she really doesn't love him anymore, then why is _she _staying too?  
"Oh, ok. Sure." What the hell am I doing? I'm supposed to be getting some distance from Emily, not going over to her place for dinner. Her face lights up at my response though and I can't bring myself to change my answer.

So after my session with her, which is particularly gruelling after I teased her about her unhealthy lunch, I find myself standing in my room and ripping my wardrobe apart looking for something to wear. I don't know whether to go for casual or smart. Should I look like I've made an effort or not? Just what the hell do you wear for dinner with your straight, sort of friend, who you kissed less than a week ago? Should I wear my hair up or down? Makeup or no makeup? Usually I'd ask Effy for her advice, but that's definitely out of the question. I passed her on the way in to the flat as she was leaving to drop some stuff off at work. I'm going over to Emily's for seven, so I'm hoping to be out of the house before she gets back.

I eventually settle on my favourite white shirt under a blazer. I pull on a pair of jeans and my Converse to keep the look smart yet casual. I keep my hair down and curl it a little bit before putting on some makeup; I keep it light, just a bit of foundation and some eyeliner. I look presentable at least. My taxi turns up at ten to seven, so I quickly grab the nicest bottle of wine I can find in the fridge and my house keys off the table. I think about leaving Effy a note, but decide against it. I'm a big girl. She doesn't need to know where I am every second of the day.

I give the taxi driver Emily's address and he takes me to a nice estate full of identical posh houses. They all look like they've just been assembled from some sort of Ikea catalogue. The house the driver stops in front of has two cars in the drive; Freddie's Corsa, with its racer boy stripes on the bonnet and mud all up the side, and an immaculate white Prius that must belong to Emily.

She welcomes me at the door as I walk up the garden path. She's wearing a navy blue summer dress that stops just above her knees and has a matching bow in her hair. She looks stunning. "Hey, you found the house ok then?" She greets me as she steps aside to let me in the house and I hand over the bottle I brought. Emily looks impressed. It's something expensive, Effy doesn't drink cheap wine.  
"I didn't know what we were having so I just brought white. Is that ok?" I follow her in to the kitchen as she goes to get two glasses out of one of the cupboards.

The kitchen is bright and modern, like what I can see of the rest of the house. The cupboards are solid oak and the benches are black marble. The fitness business and the financial sector must pay pretty well if the house is anything to go by. "That's fine. I haven't made up my mind what we're having yet. I thought I'd let you choose." She tosses me a handful of takeout menus from a drawer with a smirk.  
"I thought you were giving me a lesson in nutrition?" I ask sceptically, wondering if this is some kind of test  
"I am. I didn't say anything about cooking though."

She fills our glasses and hands one to me as I look through the menus. We end up ordering Chinese and Emily talks me through all the various proteins shakes, recovery shakes and food supplements that can help me with my training. She's talking about Glucosamine supplements or something when the food finally arrives, not that I've actually been paying all that much attention. It's the first time I've seen her wearing lipstick and I can't keep my eyes off her lips.

Emily answers the door to get our food and insists on paying since she invited me over. She takes it in to the kitchen to plate up, leaving me alone in the living room. The walls are all plain cream and the single lamp on in the corner gives the room a soft glow. I stand up to take a look at the picture frames sitting on a floating shelf above the fireplace. I take my wine with me and sip at it as I pick one of the photographs up for closer inspection. It shows a much younger Emily with dark brown hair and a wide-eyed smile. She's wearing a school uniform and her arms are wrapped around an equally juvenile Freddie. He's wearing the same uniform and goofy smile. He looks happy. They both do. I've struggled to picture Freddie and Emily as a couple, but I could easily see the two kids in the photograph getting engaged. They look like completely different people to the adults that I know them as.

"We were fifteen in that." I jump as I hear Emily behind me. I didn't notice her coming back in the room. She sets the two plates she's carrying down on the coffee table and comes over to join me by the fireplace. Her hand finds the small of my back as she leans over my shoulder to look at the picture. "Just a couple of stupid kids with no idea how we were supposed to feel."  
"You look happy." I put the frame back down, using it as an excuse to step forward and claim back some personal space.  
"We were…" Emily answers and the sadness in her eyes is enough to break my heart. What the hell happened to her and Freddie to make them how they are now? How can a seemingly happy could get so messed up?

We sit back down to eat and I consider whether or not I should bring up her impending nuptials. In the end, she does it for me as her eyes track back to the photographs on the shelves. "Freddie asked me out on the last day of college. He said he'd been in love with me for years, he'd just been too frightened to tell me."  
"What changed?" I really shouldn't be asking. It's like poking a nest of wasps with a stick. This is all going to end in tears, so why do I keep putting myself through this? Why can't I just stop going to that damn gym? Why can't I just give up seeing her altogether? Why can't I just get up and walk away?

"I was going away to Edinburgh for uni. We were going to be apart for the first time in years and he got scared. He wanted to tell me how he felt before I left." I can just imagine a teenage Freddie declaring his undying love for the beautiful girl sitting in front of me.  
"I thought you studied here?" I remember her mentioning she was working at the gym through school, so she mustn't have gone away to study.

"I did. I didn't go. After Freddie told me how I felt, well I couldn't just leave. I took my third choice and stayed in Bristol. The day I graduated he got down on one knee and proposed." She's smiling as she talks about him proposing, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "So we set a date… two years seemed like a million miles away back then. More wine?" She doesn't give me a chance to answer as she hastily gets up and goes to the kitchen. She comes back in with the bottle and sits it down on the table in front of us. We're both sitting on the sofa, which is little more than the size of a loveseat, facing each other with our legs tucked under us. Our knees are just about touching and my jeans brush against her bare leg as I move to pick up my wine glass. She dips her head, focusing intently on her wine instead of looking at me.

Ok, I'm not crazy. There _is _something there between us. I can feel it! I'm not making this shit up! "Do you still want to marry him?" I already know the answer. It's written all over her face as she finally looks up at me. She shakes her head and I don't miss the way her eyes drop to my lips. My heart is pounding so loudly in my chest that I almost miss what she says to me next.  
"I lied to you." She admits in little more than a whisper. I have to lean in closer to hear her and that is the absolute wrong thing to do as our arms brush up against each other. The smell of her perfume is intoxicating and the warmth of her body pressing against my side is too much. I'm going to do something stupid again; I just know I am.

"When I said I was straight, I lied. I used to be bi…I guess I still am. It just doesn't matter anymore, because I'm with Freddie and I'm getting married next month…" She swallows hard as she carries on staring at me. I have no idea what I'm meant to say to that. My mouth opens and closes but I can't get any words to come out. My mind is reeling from what Emily's just told me. She's not straight.

She's not straight and that changes everything. I'm suddenly reconsidering every light touch and every friendly smile she's ever given me. I kissed her and instead of running a mile afterwards she seeks me out and she invites me over for dinner when she knows her fiancé is going to be out. I thought her asking me over was just her way of telling me that things were fine between us and she still wanted to help me, but now I don't know what to think. I don't know what to think about anything anymore. Me, Emily, Effy, Freddie; none of it makes any sense anymore. It's all just one big mess that's going to blow up in our faces.

Emily lights the fuse as she leans in so close to me that our noses are touching. Her eyes drops back down to my mouth as her tongue darts across her lips. I feel like I can barely breathe as she lifts her gaze again and our eyes lock. If I move my head just a little our lips will be touching; Emily's lips move first though and we're sitting so close that they graze against mine as she finally confides in me. "I'm getting married, but I can't stop thinking about you."


End file.
